When I was a kid, I found a piece of broken cobalt blue glass, like from a jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub. I held the piece of glass up to the sun, and saw a cross in the middle. Being a pagan Presbyterian, I assumed this was a good omen and maybe it meant I could have a wish granted. So I wished I could go to Sweden, land of my ancestors, when I was 17.

Well, 17 came and went, and then 27, 37, 47, and it’s not looking like I’ll get to Sweden by 57 either. But maybe the real magic, the real gift, was to see the beauty of the light shining through that lovely glass.